Gibby's Finest Hour
by aqwaticactor
Summary: Gibby tells the story of a lifetime (his finest hour), but the author doesn't quite follow along.


Gibby walked through school with an angered look. He had been tired of being pushed around his entire life. Sam squirted cheese in Gibby's pants every day and Freddie always bored him and Carly smelled funny and Jeremy was infecting the earth with his existence. He was tired of all of it. Gibby was so fet up with it, that he decided to take extreme measures.

On Martin Luthor King Jr. Day, Gibby came into school with brown face paint and he sagged his pants down to the floor to the point where you could see a line of skin between his pink polkadot underwear and his pants and he had a shirt that said "Black and proud of it" while he was eating fried chicken. Everyone stared at him in shock.

* * *

Hold on, wait, what is this garbage? I'm the author, and I don't even know what's happening here.

"Gimme a sec, this will all make sense in a moment."

Okay...

"Oh yeah, and try not to interrupt."

Oh, right. Sorry.

* * *

"YO WHADDUP DAWHG?!" Gibby yelled to the general population as he pulled a slice of water mellon out of his pocket.

"GIBBY DATS RACIST!" Carly yelled out loud.

"NO IM CELEBRATING MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. DAY! YOU'RE ALLOWED TO DRESS UP AS LEPRECHAUNS ON SAINT PATRICKS DAY AND WEAR FOUR LEAF CLOVERS AND THATS RACIST SO I'M ONLY BEING FAIR HERE! IF ANYONE SAYS THAT LEPRECHAUNS ARE REAL THEN THEY ARE RACIST!" Everyone was amazed. Gibby did have a point. Saint Patricks Day was in fact racist.

* * *

Woah, woah, woah, what?!

"Hard to believe, isn't it?"

I don't even know what to make of this! St. Patricks Day? Racist? What are you even trying to say?

"Keep reading, it gets better."

Fine, let's see where this goes.

* * *

"Gibby you're right we're sorry." Principal Franklin said.

"YOU WILL ALL REMEMBER THE NAME OF GIBBY!" He said as he pulled out a sawed off glock from his back pocket.

"BANG BANG LOSERS!" Gibby said as he shot people in the face and throat.

"HE GOT ME IN THE FACE!" Freddie screamed out.

"HE GOT ME IN THE BRAIN!" Sam screamed out.

"HE GOT ME IN THE HEART!" Carly screamed out.

"DIE!" Gibby screamed out, "HASHTAG YOLO!"

* * *

Wait wait wait wait, hold up for a second. Let's ignore the fact that the situation is certainly escalating quickly and that we'll probably get sued along with some death threats, but did you just say "HASHTAG YOLO!"?!

"Yeah, so what?!"

You don't even deserve an ending to this story so I think I'll just end it here.

"NO WAIT! PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A HUNDRED MORE WORDS TO WRAP THIS UP! I'VE BEEN WAITING MY WHOLE LIFE FOR THIS!"

...you know, they say it's curiosity that killed the cat, but I think it's curiosity that's gonna kill me. Let's see what happens...

* * *

Gibby continued to shoot people in the bladder and the uvula and the medulla oblongata. "I AM THE KING OF THIS SCHOOL! BOW DOWN BEFORE ME AND SING TO ME!"

No one knew what to do, so they just all left.

"COME ON DON'T ANY OF YOU DIE?!"

"Nope." said Rip-Off Rodney.

"...okay, I guess I failed. Anyone wanna go to the Groovy Smoothy?"

"HECK YEAH!" Everyone said, and they skipped off into the sunset and they all lived happily ever after. Well, except for Sam who snorted marijuana later that day and died instantly.

THE END

* * *

Well, as the author, I gotta say, I'm not to impressed.

"WHAT?! But this was my finest hour! This was the moment I was meant to live!"

But you said yourself it was a failure.

"Just because it was a failure doesn't mean it wasn't fine! Or that it wasn't my finest hour!"

Meh, okay, fine. I'll buy that. Well, I have to say, your story was somewhat decent. Though what did the Saint Patricks Day thing have to do with anything? I mean, I guess it was something to think about, well not really if you actually think about it for longer than a second you'll actually realize how stupid your claim actually was, but what did that add to the overall arc of the story? And why were you dressed up as a black person? How did this give you an edge in any way except for making people hate you more? Heck, why was there school on Martin Luthor King Jr. Day?! AND WHY DID YOU GO ON A KILLING MASACRE?! FIRST YOU WANT TO TEACH THEM ABOUT RACISM THEM YOU WANT TO KILL THEM?! WHAT'S THAT ABOUT?! AND HOW DO YOU SAW OFF A GLOCK?! THEN EVERYONE ALL OF A SUDDEN FORGIVES YOU?! AND NO ONE GETS HURT EVEN THOUGH YOU SHOOT THEM IN THE FACE AND THROAT?! WHAT IS THIS?!

"You know, theres just a point in life where you just have to suspend disbelieve and enjoy a story. You of all people should know that, you're the author."

THIS ISN'T EVEN ABOUT SUSPENDING MY BELIEFS! THESE ARE JUST STRAIGHT UP PLOT HOLES! THE FIRST HALF OF THIS STORY DOESN'T ADD ANYTHING TO THE STORY AND THE SECOND HALF DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE! IN ALL MY YEARS OF WRITING THIS IS THE MOST TERRIBLE THING I'VE EVER READ OR WRITTEN!

"You can call it what you'd like, it was just my finest hour."

AND THAT ENDING...WHAT WAS THAT WITH THE MARIJUANA?!

"Yeah, I figured we could have an anti-drug message in there since its all the kids talk about these days."

BUT THAT'S NOT EVEN HOW IT WORKS! YOU DON'T SNORT MARIJUANA AND YOU DON'T-...you know what? I'm just gonna end the story right here.

"Fine by me."

Alrighty then. To the reader, if you actually stayed until the end, I am so sorry.

"BUT I'M NOT!"

That's nice, Gibby.


End file.
